


Flaws

by Xenolis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, this is the fic that made me realise I Hate writing romance lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenolis/pseuds/Xenolis
Summary: Tony Stark has a lot of issues. You're becoming one of them.





	Flaws

**Author's Note:**

> Written May 2018. This is dumb and makes me cringe lmao

Though he would never admit it, Tony Stark admired you.

From the moment you appeared out of nowhere to help the Avengers on a tricky mission, he was stunned by your body- well, your skills too, of course, but the first thing he saw was your amazing ass as you stepped in front of him to gracefully parry what would've been a deadly hit. When you turned around to check on him after noticing he hadn't moved from the ground, he only found himself more astounded by the half of your face he could see. Your eyes were striking, narrowed with concern as you scanned his armoured form, and finally Tony's mind caught up with time and he picked himself up.

As much as he would've loved to, this fight wasn't one he could dare spare a few moments to flirt with you.

The moment the battle ended, you had tried to rush off, only for Iron Man to drop down in front of you, lightly grabbing your biceps to keep you in place. There was no way he was about to let such in incredible person just run away before he even got to ask you for your name- and maybe your number, depending on how you reacted.

Months on, you were officially knighted as an Avenger, and Tony could barely conceal his proud grin. You moved into the tower with everyone else, comfortably settling into a room on the same floor as Steve and Sam.

For a while, he spent as much time in the lab as possible, just as he'd always done because his lab was a _safe_ space: it always had been. The man didn't want to admit anything to himself just yet, so he ignored the issue as he always did with everything, because that was how he coped. But then his chest would ache with a strange sort of feeling he could only call _homesickness_ , one that was only cured by seeing you again. He kept a projection of the footage from a security camera nearby him as he tinkered on whatever caught his fancy at the time, letting whatever words you spoke to whomever you were with rush around him, keeping his sorrows at bay, even if just for a little bit.

His feelings grew stronger until just observing wasn't enough. He knew it was dangerous to let himself go down this path again, especially after how vulnerable the break-up with Pepper had made him, but he couldn't find the energy or willpower to go against his heart any more. The alternative option was to avoid you and dip back into his self-destructive tendencies to cope, but he remembered the last time you'd found him wasted and he didn't want to relive that look of pitying disappointment on your face.

Tony took up residence on the sofa in the main living room, knowing that you came there every day after training to relax and watch TV. He pretended to be occupied with some bad zombie movie, pressing his curled fingers against the armrest to try and stop his incessant, impatient tapping.

“(Y/N) is approaching, boss,” FRIDAY helpfully informed him, her voice low to avoid anyone else hearing.

“Thanks, FRI,” he muttered in response, shifting his position into something he hoped was casual, drawing one leg up onto the cushions and leaning back to get comfortable.

“Oh, hi, Tony,” you said with surprise clearly laced in your tone.

Tony glanced up at you, finding himself speechless. You were walking with a slight limp as you approached. It caused a rush of concern to flourish within his chest, but he forced it down, knowing it was likely just a good hit during training. Your skin glistened with sweat and there was a damp towel hanging around your neck, over the grey tank top that had dark, wet patches to prove your exertion. The sofa dipped as you sat down heavily, puffing out your cheeks before letting out a tired huff of breath.

You offered him a smile that he was quick to return. “Haven't seen you in a while, what have you been working on?”

“Nothing much,” he grinned as you scoffed doubtfully, “mostly just messing with possible upgrades for everyone's gear. I was thinking of giving Nat some electric gloves, but she's terrifying enough as it is without hand-tasers readily available.”

You laughed at that, and he relished in the sound. It was uneven, starting off loudly and suddenly with so much intensity that your eyes squeezed shut and creases marked across your face. The noise eased off into soft giggles that showed off your teeth, ones that weren't quite pure-white and had a few chips from unfortunate hits during a fight. He tilted his head slightly, a fond expression flitting across his features.

“Is there anything you think your suit needs? Perhaps a jet-pack so you can kick ass from all angles?” Tony offered nonchalantly, lightly patting your shoulder and feeling a flood adoration rise within him as you blessed him with your undivided attention, letting him examine your face and think of everything he lov-

“I'd probably fall and break my legs.” You chuckled at the mental image, your gaze drifting towards the ceiling as you mulled it over.

“I'd catch you,” he assured instantly, hoping that his expression didn't betray his own surprise as he hurried to fix it. “Can't have everyone's favourite Avenger dead on my watch, right? That wouldn't be great: everyone would hate me- well, more than they already do after those Accords. Is that even possible?” He paused, squinting, before nodding to himself. “Yeah, probably.”

You were silent, watching him with those intense eyes. He tried not to squirm under your inspection, reaching out to grab the remote and turn off the TV just for something to do with his hands that didn't involve him pulling you closer to him. The sudden lack of noise made him regret his actions, but he didn't dare try anything else while you were staring at him so forcefully that he could feel his hairs stand on end.

“People don't hate you, Tony.” You said finally, softening your look with a warm smile.

“Uh, what about the government? I'm pretty sure Steve still holds a grudge against me, too. Not to mention all the parents who no longer have kids because of Stark weaponry and all my mistakes: my fanmail is mostly death threats on the daily.” He tried for a light tone to soothe the situation with comedy, but the bitterness was palpable. “Yeah, people clearly _love_ me.”

You shrugged indifferently, the motion briefly outlining your collarbones and drawing his attention. “You can't please everyone all the time, Tony. No-one is ever content.”

“But I should do _better,_ ” he insisted, clearly growing uncomfortable with the personal topics. “Anyway, back to the upgrades-”

“Your best is what you can manage in the moment. Perhaps there was a mistake that seems stupid in hindsight, but you did all you could then.” You reached out to grasp his weathered hand within both of yours, effectively easing the subtle tremors that hinted at his hidden guilt.

His breath caught in his throat. He stared down at your joined hands, raising his other one to lightly clasp around yours, feeling the gentle skin under his rough fingers. Small scars patterned your palms, some faded and pale, others raised as bumps and a raw red, each telling him a tale of your battles. Tony was mesmerised, turning your hands over to brush his thumbs over your wrists, marvelling at the coloured veins and arteries that formed a tapestry under your flesh. He leaned forwards in a trance, dipping his head to press a kiss against your knuckles, letting his eyes slip closed at your comforting scent.

Then the moment passed, and he pulled away, busying his fingers by smoothing out wrinkles in his white t-shirt. He glanced at his smartwatch so he didn't have to look at you, not prepared to see your expression that he just _knew_ would be disgusted after he so carelessly crossed a line. Tony cleared his throat, standing up and slipping on some sunglasses to make your eyes feel less piercing.

“I think there's some leftover Thai food calling my name, hope you don't mind.” And on that awkward note, he breezed from the room, internally kicking himself for his lack of subtlety around you.

*

There were four Avengers on what was supposed to be a brief mission, until a bomb exploded inside a building they'd just helped evacuate and a powerful EMP wiped out their tech. Tony forced himself from his useless suit, feeling an unwelcome sense of helplessness he hadn't thought about since he'd been kidnapped and held captive in a cave with a magnet in his chest. He was practically useless without FRIDAY to guide his movements, and he hadn't even thought to bring a gun as the turn of events was entirely unexpected.

Steve whipped around and whacked away a large, flying drone that had been heading the genius' way, causing it to tumble to the ground and blow up. He spared a glare, snatching up another bot and crushing it within his hand.

Sam sprinted by, his wings folded up against his shoulder-blades and entirely out of action, but he still destroyed any enemies with his submachine guns. He ducked under a rogue bullet and returned fire, briefly hiding behind Cap for some cover before leaping right back into action.

You rushed back towards them after getting the refugees out of harms way, leaping over any drones that tried to slam into you and stumbling as you landed on some uneven ground. The bracers around your forearms protected your face from a small explosion as you raised your hands in front of you, blocking flying debris: Tony couldn't help but smile at the sight, knowing something he made had protected you.

He spun around not a second too late as he sensed something behind him, dropping to the ground in a clumsy slide to avoid a grenade that flung over him. His earpiece buzzed as he tapped it aggressively, sarcastically calling for FRIDAY to reboot whenever she felt ready, but there was no response from his AI. Tony's gaze drifted to a few feet, staring nervously at the dormant grenade until some sort of survival instinct kicked in and forced him to scramble backwards. It wasn't far enough and he flipped onto his stomach, pressing his face into the dirt and keeping his head covered with his arms.

The explosion rumbled through the earth, shaking his bones and dulling his hearing. He stayed there for a few more moments, waiting for the clumps of grass to stop raining down upon his form before rolling over and getting back to his feet, swaying unsteadily as the sound of his heart pounding filled his mind.

“Back online, boss.” FRIDAY's voice cut through the haze.

He sighed in relief, darting back over to his armour and letting it fit onto him easily. “Finally. You took your time.”

“It's not something you programmed me to be able to deal with,” she shot back, somehow managing to sound snarky and polite.

“Alright, alright. God...” Tony blasted a couple of bots out of his way as he advanced towards you. “Remind me to add a system that combats EMPs and excess electricity, FRI.”

“Noted.” She paused, “I have located the source of the electromagnetic pulse, would you like to see?”

“In a minute-” His heart suddenly leapt into his throat.

He was ten times more afraid for your life than he had been for his own as he noticed a larger drone heading straight for you, but you were too busy struggling with a couple more that had attached themselves to your arms, keeping you occupied. The jets in his boots activated immediately and he shot towards you, moving so his armour would take the brunt of the hit instead of your delicate body. An explosion rumbled through his ribs and warning alerts popped up in his display, although it was nothing he cared about.

“You alright?” He asked breathlessly, letting FRIDAY check your vitals.

You grunted aggressively, smashing your hands together to destroy the bots before turning around and beaming at Tony. “Yeah, thank you. I completely missed that!”

For the rest of the fight, he felt like he was flying- and not just because he sometimes was. He couldn't help but play the moment on repeat in his head, willing every detail into his memory so he could always recall that grateful tone in your voice, rough to the point of breaking from the strenuous battling and yet somehow still so soothing to listen to. Your face was smeared with dust and grime from the collapsed building, with clear tracks scored down your cheeks from droplets of sweat that formed as you fought in a way that made you impossible to look away from.

The spell was broken when everyone returned to the tower, exhausted and aching. Steve instantly rounded on Tony the moment they stepped off the Quinjet, his bright eyes blazing and his jaw clenched with anger.

“What happened on the battlefield there, Stark- that wasn't good enough,” he snapped, motioning behind him as if the scene was still playing. “You could've been killed, and, if that wasn't bad enough, someone else could've died because you weren't there to help.”

“Oh, so you're blaming me?” Tony shot back, the faceplate of his suit folding up so he could glare at America's golden boy. “Well, I'm sorry for getting wiped out by an enemy EMP. I'm sure I could go and find the bad guys and ask them very nicely to not do that again. That make you happy, Cap?”

“We can't afford to make mistakes, Tony. You should have something in place to prevent your suit from being wiped out so easily.” The blond shook his head, a rugged sigh tearing from his lips.

“That's what mistakes are for, though. To learn from them?” He stated it as if it was obvious - because it _was_ – feeling his hands tense into fists.

“What about New York, then, huh? The Chitauri invasion? We could've-”

Tony tuned out the rest of the sentence, finding himself thrown back in his memories so fast he almost got whiplash. His throat was tight and he was struggling to breathe, just about aware enough of his surroundings to close the faceplate and stumble away, trying to maintain the last shred of dignity he had and hoping that you didn't see him in this weak state. He managed to make his way down to his lab, desperately attempting to ground himself as his thoughts raced and his heart pounded and his head felt lighter and lighter and he was suffocating as the darkness closed around him and-

There was a gentle weight on his forearm – _when had he left his suit?_ \- and his head snapped around to look at the source – a hand, scarred and marked like the night sky, and all thoughts of the invasion faded from his mind because you were there to anchor him to reality. He took a few more moments to catch his breath, looking away from you in shame as he raised a palm to wipe away tears he didn't know he'd been crying.

“Sorry, that was- that was stupid, I just- I was just thinking about the ending of _Marley & Me_, and it- it's emotional.” Tony cleared his throat thickly, forcing his shoulders to loosen and his chin to raise, denying any sign of vulnerability.

“Steve was worried about you,” you said softly, keeping your touch gentle, as if calming a startled animal, “although he didn't have any right to bring up... that.”

“No, it's- well, for a soldier who had seventy years to think about life, he's not very good at being tactful.” He forced a chuckle, refusing to let his feeble facade fall fully even though it was obvious you could see right through him.

You blessed him with a laugh that wasn't quite genuine, but it was enough to make his lips twitch with a semblance of a secret smile. He watched as you withdrew your arm and stood up, and for a moment his heart froze in his chest at the thought of you leaving him; his hand shot out, intending to pull you back to him, before he realised how selfish and ridiculous that would be so he turned his focus to his desk to fiddle with a pen.

A quiet scrape caused him to look over his shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you pull up a chair next to him, sitting backwards on it with your arms sprawled over the back and your chin resting on the wooden framework. You gazed at him, looking more tired than he'd ever seen and yet seeming so... _content_ , as if you were happy to be with his pitiful self when you could be doing something a lot more interesting elsewhere.

He froze as you brought your hand up to the side of his face, delicately smoothing your thumb over the wrinkles next to his mouth.

“You saved my life, Tony. Even with all the things that went wrong, _you saved my life._ ”

He couldn't find the brainpower to crack a witty response: he was melting under your loving touch. “I-it wasn't... Anyone would've done the same.”

“You never give yourself enough credit for the great things you do.” You leaned closer to him, and Tony found his mind going blank as he felt your warm breath fan over his face. “You need to learn to love yourself for who you are.” Now your lips were ghosting over his, not quite touching, and again he had to remind himself to resist the urge to pull you closer. “Love yourself the way _I_ love you.”

All caution was gone as his palms cupped your face, pulling you into a clumsy kiss that made his chest feel like it was going to burst with joy. You pulled away, letting Tony press a kiss on your forehead and hold you as close as he was able with that damn chair still in the way. His breathing was staggered and his heart was pounding, but this time he loved the feeling, knowing that you reciprocated his feelings- knowing that, of all the people you could've chosen, you loved _him._

Him: the orphan genius; the problematic billionaire; the terrified man in a can.

And you? You were so, _so_ flawed, and yet... indescribably _perfect._

Tony Stark realised then that he didn't _admire_ you, no - he _adored_ you.

You were his safe space, and he was going to remind you just how much he loved you with every chance he was given.


End file.
